This is Paralyzed
by delectabledaisy
Summary: Post 'Death Has No Dominion' one-shot. "It's a relief when the comforting scent of his aftershave mixed with the close proximity sends you into a dreamy haze, and you suddenly want nothing more than to remain wrapped in his arms for the rest of eternity."


_**This is Paralyzed**_

_In an infrangible web of hopelessness and desperation, you are trapped. The ropes in which you are forcefully entwined are not as delicate as you first assumed they'd be. Lacking the strength and determination to move on, you wait, for you don't know else to do. The grip tightens with every sob you emanate; impounding the grief within you until you can feel no more._

You're not sure how long you'd sat in your car for after work. Though it couldn't have been that long; the sky's still an empty shade of black like it was when you first sat down, allowing little moonlight to illuminate the deserted streets. You're not sure how your eye lashes have managed to keep hold of some of your make up, considering the fact it looks like the entire contents of the mascara tube has been splayed all over your cheeks.

You do, however, know that you're in dire need of a very strong drink.

Even you, Nikki Alexander, with your knowledge that broken hearts are nothing but a pitiful cliché, couldn't help but feel a tiny crack echo throughout your chest when you'd found out your father had died.

If your fatigued body hadn't been screaming for some rest, you probably would've stayed there all night. The sound of the rain pattering against the wind screen was strangely comforting. It's almost as if the silence of a dry evening would make everything that little bit more unbearable.

You rid your cheeks of the dark paths snaking their way towards your chin and park outside your home. The rain is still cascading from the sky, yet you make no attempt to cover yourself from its downpour. You stand there for a moment, as if locked in a trance or held captive between the falling raindrops, and silently dread the thought of being alone tonight. The silence of an empty apartment isn't one you particularly enjoy on a regular evening, let alone one following all this.

It's not until you enter your home and pass a picture of yourself and your parents in South Africa that the barriers you've been holding up fall and you crumble. You promised yourself you would never let your father get to you ever again. He wasn't a big part of your life anymore. You had your job, you had your own life, you didn't want anything or anyone reminding you of the past. You were living for the days to come, whatever they may bring. But he changed all that by making you remember all the things you tried so hard to forget.

With unnecessary ferocity you kick your heels off and march into the kitchen, and in the process of grabbing a glass from the cupboard your hand shakes and a large pint glass falls and smashes on the work top, leaving one side of your kitchen floor glittering in the light. _Bollocks._ Reaching for just the bottle this time, you come to the conclusion that you would've ended up drinking the whole thing anyway, so a glass seems rather pointless. Taking a long swig, you begin drinking yourself to oblivion in the hope that it'll force all the memories to the back of your mind before they inevitably swallow you whole.

That is, until a knock at the door brings you back to reality. You sigh, knowing full well who you hope is standing on the other side, yet trying not to get your hopes up. The only person you want right now is probably a little preoccupied with a long-legged, dark haired, big breasted 25 year old. With shaking hands, you open the door a fraction. The empty feeling inside is fleetingly replaced by something you can't quite decipher as your hopes are fulfilled.

"I thought you might require a drinking partner." He says gently, lifting his hand with a forced smile etched upon his face and revealing a bottle of wine before glancing at your own and noticing the opened bottle clasped tightly in your fist. "Though it appears you may have started without me."

"Harry, I'm fine, I really don't need-" You begin with a sigh as he cocks his head to the side and studies you. A wave of guilt washes over you as you notice Harry's damp hair and shirt. He looks as if he came straight from the Lyell to yours. He didn't even take the time to put a coat on, the idiot.

"Shut up, woman. I've brought you alcohol. The least you could do to return the favour is invite me in so you can put my mind at rest."

Without awaiting an answer, he steps inside and makes his way towards the kitchen and you follow behind. "You worry too much."

"With good reason too. It looks like a bomb's hit this kitchen. What happened?"

Shattered glass still littered the tiled floor beneath your feet, and Harry span around with an imploring look in his eyes before you had the chance to think up a decent excuse.

"Accident." You feel a sob creep up the back of your throat as you speak. "Funny, it looks almost as broken as I feel."

You don't know where the words came from, and judging by Harry's reaction he's surprised you answered him at all. He gives you a glance doused in both sympathy and worry as he stares at your forlorn posture and facial expression. He stands closer to you and grips the top of your arm with one hand, using the other to push your chin up until your gaze is fixed upon his.

"I knew you weren't fine."

"Why now, Harry?" You ask ask you lift the bottle to your lips and take a swig so large that it burns your throat on the way down. "Why did everything wait until now to crumble?"

He doesn't answer you straight away, clearly unsure as to whether you're awaiting a response or simply voicing your thoughts out loud.

"You've been expecting this for a while, Nikki. You knew it'd hit you sooner or later." He sighs. "You can't expect to be fine straight away."

You want him to tell you everything will be okay. You need him to tell you. He's the only one who can say something like that and make you believe it. You raise your voice and wipe your eyes furiously; an unexpected frustration rising. "I have to be fine straight away! I can't spend the rest of my life wallowing in self pity just because he's gone!" Trying to avoid Harry's reaction, you speed off into the living room with him hot on your heels.

"I survived without him when he was alive," you shout, more to convince yourself than Harry, and drink more of the rapidly decreasing liquid in your bottle. "I can do just as well now he's dead, thank you!"

There's something about the way you scream the words that makes Harry flinch. Perhaps it was the way your voice shook as you forced the word "dead" from the tip of your tongue with such a force that you could feel it ringing in your ears. Perhaps it was simply the fact you'd screamed at him for no reason. Either way, it wasn't looking too good.

You stop and stare at him for a moment as he walks up to you and pulls you so close to him that you're convinced the both of you are going to morph into one person. Before you know it, you've gone again. The tears fall until you're almost certain it's impossible to stop them. It's a relief when the comforting scent of his aftershave mixed with the close proximity sends you into a dreamy haze, and you suddenly want nothing more than to remain wrapped in his arms for the rest of eternity.

"I just... I didn't feel anything towards him for so long, then things were finally starting to brighten up between us and now that's been replaced with nothing but this emptiness. I don't want to feel anything anymore, Harry. I want the pain to go away."

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, you feel his lips shift until they graze your ear as he whispers, barely audibly, "I'll promise you this: everything is going to be fine. It won't be today, it might not even be tomorrow, but one day it'll stop hurting this much. I'm here for as long as it takes, Niks. Always."

His words make your knees weaken slightly; the realisation of your feelings hitting you with the force of a canon ball. "Stay with me." You whisper back, and for a second you wonder if he'd even heard you at all.

Harry rests his forhead against yours, keeping his eyes firmly shut as if opening them would break the spell. His voice shoots through the empty darkness of the room and sends a shiver up your spine as he tells you everything you've ever wanted to hear using nothing more than one word:

"Forever."

**So, I don't post anything for ages and I suddenly spring back with a depressing mess like this... It probably doesn't seem like it, but this took me so long to write! I first got the idea for it when I was sat in the middle of Geography (I think of fic ideas a lot in Geography, there's nothing else to do in there) and it wouldn't leave me alone. I had the perfect image of what it was going to be like but I'm not sure if it really worked. It seems a bit rushed to me, but I really couldn't think of any other way of writing it. :/**

**Drop me a review and let me know? :-)**

**xxx**


End file.
